


The Things Taxi Drivers Get to Hear

by Insomnia_Productions



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Light Angst, M/M, One-Shot, Pre-Canon, Valentine's Day, because my teacher is chill, drunk misaki, from his perspective, imagine this fic, lots of talking, saruhiko is done with this, sort of, that poor cab driver though, written for an assignment in english
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 00:58:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7145603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insomnia_Productions/pseuds/Insomnia_Productions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: A taxi, an old enemy, and Valentine's Day. </p><p> </p><p>Saruhiko does not like Valentine's Day, and all he wants now is to get... well—not home, but <i>somewhere</i> that his irritating subordinates <i>aren't</i>. Unfortunately for him, some HOMRA members who are very fed up with Misaki's moping have other plans. Which may or may not include getting the redhead drunk and depositing him wherever Saruhiko is. </p><p> </p><p>In other words: the one in which Saruhiko is painfully obliged (or so he tells himself) to deal with a drunk Misaki who has chosen today of all days to be the rambliest drunk of all time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things Taxi Drivers Get to Hear

 

Valentine's Day. It's dumb, it's overrated, it's Saruhiko’s least favorite day of the year. 

(Well.  _ Second _ -least favorite. Right after July 20th.)

It was bad before, watching people on the streets snuggle up together with chocolates and flowers, colored by love just for this one twenty-four-hour period, only to turn grey and uncaring again as soon as the Sun rises the following day. But it's worse now, now that Saruhiko is surrounded by people who all seem to want to do those things with  _ him _ , though he has no idea why. 

(Honestly, what part of “I fucking hate you all” do his subordinates not understand?) 

And even  _ worse  _ than  _ that _ is the fact that for all the flowers he's received today, the only one he wants will not come. But that, he reminds himself as he trudges through the biting air, is for the best. 

“SARUHIKO!!” 

Saruhiko startles, looking up at the one face he hadn't expected to see, today of all days. Usually, he would have a taunt ready, a jibe to get him riled up, but he's tired and it's Valentine's Day and just two years ago the two of them spent this day sprawled over each other on the floor, playing video games and exchanging bets with dishwashing duties as stakes. So he sighs and turns away, and quietly asks, “What do you want, Misaki?” 

The Red smiles at him.  _ Smiles _ . “I was… looking for you!” His words are vaguely slurred, eyes too bright. 

“Tch. Are you drunk?” 

“No… psh… of course not.” But he sways where he stands, and for a moment he frowns as though he doesn't quite believe his own words. 

Saruhiko groans. “Those idiots at HOMRA can't even keep you safe from a bar, huh?” 

“Shut up,” Misaki complains, but his tone is light. It's been a long time since he used that tone around the Blue, and it pulls at something in Saruhiko’s heart. He should just walk away now. He should walk away. He should…

“Come on, idiot,” he mutters. “I'll get you a taxi.” 

Misaki smiles and nods, surprisingly compliant, thank god, and does not protest when Saruhiko guides him into a cab and tells the driver the address. But when Saruhiko tries to close the door, a hand closes around his wrist, holding him in place. 

“Come with me… please?”

Saruhiko grits his teeth. “No.”

“Please? Just on the way. I won't say anything.” 

Saruhiko doubts that, but the grip on his wrist doesn't loosen, so he sighs to himself and slides into the taxi, closing the door and staring determinedly out the window. He can feel Misaki’s eyes on him, but the Red doesn't speak, making good on his reassurance…

...for approximately three minutes. 

“You know, Saru…” Misaki begins, and Saruhiko resists the urge to bang his head against the window. “I really miss you. Like really,  _ really  _ miss you. A lot. All of the time.  _ All  _ of the time. It's really unfair, y’know? Cause you're an asshole and I shouldn't miss you, but I do. Really a  _ lot.  _ And I kind of hate you for that.” He pauses for a moment. “But not really. I actually did hate you, you know, the first time I met you after you joined those stupid Blues. But only then, not before and not after…” He trails off, and then perks up. “Hey, you know today’s… today’s Valentine's Day. Do you remember… the last time we spent Valentine's together? And… and I lost all the games and you made me do all the dishes for a week? I still think you cheated, by the way…” 

He didn't cheat. Didn't need to cheat, when all he had to do was name his avatar something sexual and watch the redhead nearly fall over himself blushing and stuttering every time Saruhiko passed him. 

“B-but, anyway… anyway what I was saying is that today's Valentine's Day so I thought… I wanted to find you because… it seems like a good day to tell you this.” 

Saruhiko stiffens, eyes still trained on the buildings blurring outside the taxi. 

“It's that… that I've missed you so much even though I shouldn't and the other day I figured out this thing that's… that you should know because it’s, it’s important… and anyway what I'm saying is—”

_ Shut up,  _ Saruhiko tries to say, and his lips move but no sound comes out.  _ Don’t say it.  _

“—is that I love you, Saru.”

Saruhiko closes his eyes.  _ No.  _

“A-and… and I know you don't really hate me, I _know_ you don't. I have everything figured out now, well, Totsuka helped a bit, but still, I _get_ it now, sort of, at the very least I know that I love you, so—”

“Shut up,” Saruhiko says, and this time it comes out. “Stop talking. Stop  _ saying  _ that.” He tries to keep his voice flat and monotone, but somehow he suspects that his efforts are unsuccessful. “You wouldn't say any of that if you were sober, so don't say it now.”

“That's not—!” Misaki stops, frowning. “I might not  _ say  _ it, but I'd  _ think  _ it! I  _ have _ been thinking it for a while now and m-maybe I couldn't say it before, or even  _ before _ when it really mattered, but I'm saying it  _ now _ , and that… that counts!” 

Saruhiko doesn't look away from the window. “It doesn't matter. I'm not going to fall for that again. I'm not going to be  _ forgotten _ again. I—”

“ _I_ _never forgot_ _you_!” There’s an angry sort of desperation in his voice that makes Saruhiko look at him, and he's surprised to see tears shining in the Red’s eyes. “I _never_ forgot you, so don't say that I did. Maybe I didn't… maybe I wasn't the greatest friend, but I never forgot you and I _never_ stopped thinking of you ask my best friend, even after you left.” His voice drops to a whisper. “I was a crappy friend, but so were you, so why can't we go back to being each other’s crappy best friends?” 

Saruhiko doesn't respond, and Misaki slumps, hiding his face in Saruhiko’s arm and wrapping him in a weak embrace. 

“...I’m sorry,” he whispers miserably, and then stops speaking altogether. 

The Blue sits in silence for a long moment, watching Misaki’s breaths grow steady, and places his other hand on the Red’s head. 

“I love you, too,” he murmurs as Misaki’s eyes close. “But I don't believe you.” 

When the taxi pulls up at Misaki’s building, the Red is already half asleep. Saruhiko hands the taxi driver his fee and tells him to keep the change. Then he eases Misaki out of the car and guides the Red’s arm over his shoulder, thanking the powers that be for elevators. He has to take charge of Misaki’s keys, as well, but thankfully the Red is still capable of pulling off his own shoes. Saruhiko settles his old friend into bed, and breaths a sigh of relief as he straightens, finally able to leave—

Once again, a hand closes around his wrist. 

“Don't leave me,” Misaki says with pleading eyes. “If you do, I know you'll just pretend today never happened. You'll pretend I never told you I love you, and you'll pretend you never said it back. I know you will. So even if you don't believe me yet… don't go.” 

Saruhiko looks at him. “You'll hate me when you wake up. I don't feel like staying here all night just for that.” 

Misaki only smiles and rolls onto his side, facing the Blue, and closes his eyes. 

There is a sword at Saruhiko’s side and knives up his sleeves, and he has spent the past two years antagonizing the Red. And yet Misaki is leaving himself completely unguarded,  _ asleep _ , trusting that the Blue will do him no harm. It's almost idiotic. No, it's  _ completely  _ idiotic. 

(But if he really feels that way, then maybe…) 

Saruhiko sighs and sinks to the floor with his back against the side of the bed, readying himself for a long night of suspenseful waiting and pessimistic thoughts, and in spite of himself, he hopes. 

Saruhiko hopes that come morning, Misaki will not take it all back. 

**Author's Note:**

> idk I just saw those three words together and thought: 'This is sarumi'. So then. This happened. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Like it says in the summary, I kind of feel like Misaki's probably 18 now and since it's Valentine's and he was feeling down, Kusanagi let him have a drink or two and then someone at HOMRA thought 'hey I have an idea'. Cue sneakily getting Misaki drunk (which isn't easy) and then tracking Saruhiko location and depositing Misaki wherever that is and watching from behind a bush. 
> 
> I've encountered exactly two drunk people in my life thus far. One was too busy throwing up to talk, and the other was just an idiot, so I'm wasn't sure how to write Misaki's dialogues in this. I just winged it and I hope it sounds okay and not too... sober. 
> 
>  
> 
> aaaanyway, that's a pretty open ending, so maybe comment what you expect to happen in the morning, and maybe I'll write it, because, let's be real, these boys have way too much unresolved emotional tension already


End file.
